The Mystery of the Emeralds

as though I didn’t really belong in Virginia. Did you sense that when you were here? I’m sure they didn’t like the idea of one of their sons marrying a girl from the North, no matter how respectable her family. It was as though Lee had broken an unwritten law! I have many acquaintances here but not a single close friend in whom I can confide.
    “‘The question of slavery is on everyone’s lips. Fortunately, Lee and I are of the same opinion about this matter. We freed all the slaves here at Rosewood some time ago. Most of them did not want to leave the plantation, where they had spent all their lives, and so they stayed on, for either wages or a share of the crops. But on the other plantations, where their relationship with the owners is not so good, slaves have been escaping to the North in great numbers. Feelings are running high, and there is bound to be trouble soon.
    “ ‘Reading between the lines of your letter, which finally reached me, I know that you are aware of the situation and what is being done about it. Hence my decision to write you about the emerald necklace. This afternoon I hid it, and, with Lee’s consent and approval, I am sending Rufus, whom I’m sure you will remember, to you with this note. He has served this family since before Lee was born. Now he is old and not too well. We want to assure his well-being. He is leaving tomorrow with someone who will know the proper “lines” to take. His journey will be precarious, I know, and all we can do is hope and pray he reaches you safely. In case anything should happen to him en route, however, I am not divulging in this note where I have hidden the necklace. I have put directions for locating it in the place where we spent the last afternoon you were here.
    “ ‘My heart is filled with sadness and a great desire to see you again, but my duty is with my family. Where will we all be next Christmas? Will one of us be able to wear the emeralds, or will their proverbial curse visit us if they are not worn on that day? I pray not, but time alone will tell.
    “ ‘Your devoted sister,
    “‘Ruth’”

    There was dead silence as Trixie finished reading, and the three looked at one another with solemn faces. They slid off the fence and walked slowly up the road toward the grazing horses.
    Finally Jim said, “Trix, you’ve hit upon something pretty mysterious and a little eerie, but it was so far away and so long ago that I don’t see how you can ever hope to do anything about it.”
    “She’ll find a way, Jim, if I know Trixie,” Honey said, rising to her friend’s defense, “and you can be sure every one of the Bob-Whites will help her—you included—until she does find a way.”
    “Oh, simmer down, Honey; you know I’ll help her,” Jim answered with a smile, “but how in heaven’s name can you go about unraveling a mystery as old as this one?”
    Trixie’s brows were furrowed with thought as she said, “I don’t know how, Jim. I only know that I’ve got to try.”
    They had been so preoccupied with the letter that no one had noticed the minutes slipping by. Suddenly Trixie looked at her wristwatch and cried, “Gleeps, we’d better step on it. It’s after four now. We’ll have to pay a fine for being late.”
    “Well, the club coffers need some replenishing, I guess.” Honey laughed. “I haven’t paid my dues in weeks.”
    The clubhouse originally had been the gatehouse on the Wheeler estate. It had been unoccupied for years and consequently in a very run-down condition when the Bob-Whites decided to use it for their meetings. The boys had put on a new roof, floored the interior, and partitioned one side for storage of sports equipment—skis, skates, tennis rackets, and camping gear. Honey, who sewed beautifully, had made gay curtains for the windows, which, with the simple furniture they had collected, made it a very attractive room. They not only had many good times here but had also planned several projects to help those less fortunate than themselves.
    Mart, Brian, and Diana were busy sweeping and dusting when the others arrived. All but one of the windows were wide-open.
    “Leave that one down, Trix,” Brian warned his sister as she started toward it. “A robin has built her nest on the sill. Look; there are four very hungry babies in it, and Mr. and Mrs. Bedbreast are being run ragged trying to fill them up.”
    “Just like people!” Mart said. “But how about getting started? Would our late